


Strings

by servantofclio



Series: Aderyn Hawke [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a lute in Fenris' house. I'd like to think he plays it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of headcanon to explain the lute lying around in Fenris' rooms.

Contrary to common belief, Fenris did not spent all his hours alone in the house emptying Danarius’ wine cellar. Nor did he spend his time dancing, no matter what he had told Varric.

In truth, he spent less time in the mansion than Hawke’s friends supposed. He took other jobs besides Hawke’s, after all, and he had to eat, and there were cards at Varric’s or Donnic’s. Most of his days were occupied enough, and if he did not choose to inform his associates of that fact, well, it was hardly their concern, was it?

Rather, he devoted a certain amount of time to practice, usually in what had once been a ballroom: large and open, cleared of its furnishings. He did not use most of the rooms in the mansion, leaving them to dust and mice, but this one could serve a purpose. There was space to practice his footwork and maneuvers, to swing a sword without fear of harming anyone. Aveline had invited him to train with the Guard, as well, but sometimes Fenris preferred to sweat in solitude.

And yet, he did, on occasion, find himself with time to pass and no inclination to seek out company, at the Hanged Man or elsewhere. On one such day, early in his stay at the mansion, his eye had fallen upon a lute. 

There had been music played when Danarius had guests, but such had never been Fenris’ duties. In spite, or just possibly because, of that, he shed his sharp gauntlets and dared to touch the instrument. It was dusty, but the strings were intact. Plucking them produced pleasant enough notes, though they did not sound quite right together, but one of the strings felt loose—perhaps if he turned the peg to tighten it, just slightly? Yes, that made a more harmonious result.

Fenris had no real idea what he was about, but he kept returning to the lute, in idle moments. It was soothing, somehow, to fiddle about with the thing, even if the music was poor. When one of the strings broke, he even managed to find replacement strings in a trunk and re-string the poor thing. Sometimes, he managed to produce a tune that pleased him, that carried a mood of merriment, or perhaps wistfulness.

Of course, Hawke had to burst in on him on one such occasion.

He had been sufficiently absorbed in what he was doing, tinkering with the tune and adjusting the strings—what he was playing almost, but didn’t quite, match the snatch of song he’d had in his head that morning—when the door to his chamber opened and Hawke called, “Fenris! I’ve been knocking, what in Andraste’s name—oh!”

Fenris looked up irritably. “What is it, Hawke?”

Her cheeks flushed with color. “I—you weren’t answering. I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”

“It is of no moment.” He set the lute aside and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Hawke’s gaze followed the instrument. “Did you have need of me?”

“I didn’t realize you played,” she said instead of answering, raking her fingers through her own unruly dark hair, a nervous gesture he had become familiar with since meeting her.

“A trifle, and quite badly, I’m certain.” Fenris rose to don his gauntlets, and found Hawke now watching him, or rather his hands.

“No, no, it was lovely,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take those off.”

“They’re hardly suitable for that sort of work,” he said. “But I assume you have other work for me?”

“I… yes, quite, a little job… up the Wounded Coast, if you don’t mind?”

It was unlike Hawke to be so flustered. Fenris frowned at her. “Certainly.”

“Thank you,” she said. “The others are picking up supplies, they’ll meet us at the city gate.”

He nodded, no other acknowledgment being required. Hawke flushed again as he approached the doorway, almost stumbling as she stepped out into the hallway. Fenris fell into step beside her.

“Was that a Tevinter tune you were playing?” she asked as they descended the stairs. “I didn’t recognize it.”

“I have no idea,” he said. The tune had been in his head, that was all, and he did not recall it from his time with Danarius; if it had come from- before, he did not know.

Hawke winced and bit her lip. “Oh- of course. Forgive me, I’m an idiot.”

Hawke appeared genuinely chagrined, and the weather was too fine to be irritable. “Think nothing of it, Hawke.”

She smiled, and he found himself unexpectedly pleased to give her that relief. He smiled back, and her cheeks reddened once more before she began to chatter about the day’s job.

 


End file.
